


Between Love and Lust

by nementia



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Black Moon time, Contemplation, Falling In Love, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 17:42:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20934155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nementia/pseuds/nementia
Summary: Perhaps, in his own way, he loves Kuroo Tetsurou the best that he knows how and, perhaps, that’s good enough.





	Between Love and Lust

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: M — Language and frank terms, mild sexual nature.
> 
> Summary: Kei notices the resemblance between the general concept of love, his experience with lust, and takes the waiting hand of acceptance. 
> 
> Word Count(w/o author notes: 1212)  
Word Count(w/ author notes: 1258)

** _Chapter One: Realisation_ **

Kei wasn’t one for love. 

Could this even be classified as such?

When his right hand is wrapped firm around the shaft of his cock and bronzed orbs are rolled back into his head, he cleanses himself of the notion of love and fills his renewed frame with the reality of lust. When sun-kissed locks are watered down, clinging to his scalp, and the pads of his left hand’s fingertips are dragging along the front shower wall, it’s difficult to tell where the irrationality of an awkward heart ends and infamous logic begins. 

A particular captain’s name is on the tip of his tongue and, in the back of his mind, he wondered when his fantasies took on both face and name. Had he always been this way? He was a relatively late bloomer after all, having shown no interest in neither people nor things of a sexual nature, so the rejection of his first thought is prominent; yet, here he was, an abundance of water droplets helping his hand to shift up and down with ease, and there’s a wobble to his knees that alerts him of what’s to come. 

It stands to reason that he may have been this way long enough. 

An attraction, disguised as annoyance, lured him in and Kei figured out that he was a sucker for messy hair and a hidden intelligence that surprised even him, most times. It propels him forward, closer to his orgasm, until gangly limbs are teetering over the proverbial edge to oblivion. Slack-jawed and breathless, the shower seems too quiet, even though he’s fully aware that he’s home alone — or, perhaps, he’s too loud. They discovered early that neither of them were exactly on the silent end of the spectrum, so that could have very well have been the case, and why was he so uncomfortable…?

Oh— his water’s gone cold. 

He spent too much time thinking. 

The shower is killed and Kei has no choice but to get out in the state that he currently found himself in: Hard, horny, and hating every second of it. The towel wrapped around his hips barely hangs on as he goes about his routine and, after exiting the bathroom, he’s staring at a wall of accessories in his closet, wondering where to go from there. 

Could he really be in love, or is he still experiencing the peak of lust?

They’re often confused, he reminded himself while grabbing one article of clothing after the other and, while adjusting his pants at his hips and staring at his own reflection, the idiosyncratic teenager temporarily forgets that he’s suffering with a hard dick because, in his peripheral, he catches sight of a dark sweater that had long been left behind. It’s not his, but the material holds treasured secrets, a night of hushed laughter and stolen kisses. He’s possessive of it all, and it’s nigh impossible to believe that, even with approaching their first year together, he’s as insane now as he was then. 

Maybe the notion of love was brought to life by the reality of insanity. 

Insanity and paranoia. He’d read that an overdose on any of the components that made up the chemical formula for love could lead to either one, along with crippling schizophrenia—

Maybe he was thinking too much, again. 

The rest of his morning is as peaceful as it is irritating. No one’s home, but his thoughts are too loud. He has nothing to do for the day, yet he doesn’t want to sit around and be lazy. Who invented bow ties, anyway, and why did he choose to wear one? Everything and nothing, at all, infuriates him and, with his head propped against the back of the couch, the blond’s mind begins to wander. 

There’s a spot on the ceiling. 

The ghost of a memory created long ago — they’d decided to make pancakes, but the younger of the two was a notoriously bad cook. He remembered treating the batter like cake mix and doing such a terrible job with combining all of the ingredients, that he’d splattered it everywhere; on his boyfriend, on himself and, more importantly, it covered every bit of the kitchen and even reached the living area. Despite it all, the good outweighed the bad. It was taken in stride and kisses were plentiful, going so far as to lead to a heated make-out session and a bit of dry-humping. 

It’s a memory he cherishes. 

He cherishes it even more than he cherishes his right hand palming his covered arousal. 

Maybe it’s the moments that make up love. 

Yet, love was dauntingly entangled with lust and, when you’ve never experienced one, it’s difficult to see the difference to the other. However, he does know that one turned his life’s direction by a complete one-eighty. He’s aware that routine he’s become overly comfortable with was upside-down and inside-out. But, is it really love? Is the chemical compound in his mind equally balanced or is he just mad?

He doesn’t even enjoy the sciences all that much — at least, not as much as his favourite bedhead. 

There’s one of the many times that homework was brought along on the trips Kuroo took to visit his lover, and Kei — not quite certain on how to ease visible stress — gave his other half a massage. Luckily, he’s shockingly good with his hands, so much so that the act has been a request a few more times since. 

It could be doing things that you never would imagine yourself doing. 

Much like he’d never imagine rubbing one out on his living area couch — not like this, at least. Normally, he’d need more explicit material, but the mere idea of physical contact with the elder of the two was enough for his body to work on auto-pilot and undo his clothing to free himself from its confines. Diaphanous licks of the tongue to thin tiers are unstoppable, until he finally has to bite on the lower to keep from crying out. 

Love and lust are heavily intertwined. 

But, when Kei constricts the grip on his cock and slim hips buck upward, the fleeting notion of their similarities dissipate. He’s left with toes curling in his socks and a thin sheen of sweat to his forehead. He’s nothing but a vivid imagination and pellucid logic for company, but he doesn’t mind; the weight of a name — Tetsurou — greeting the air, after being held in for far too long, makes things easier and pulls his orgasm along for the ride. He came with a choked whine, the shaped nails of his left hand digging into his palm and leaving behind the crescent descendants of his namesake and, when it’s all said and done, he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe and his pants are a mess. 

Lust and love are mirror twins, yet lust created in the midst of love is something else on its own. Perhaps, in his own way, he loves Kuroo Tetsurou the best that he knows how and, perhaps, that’s good enough. Until he decides to ponder the thought a little more, it’s best to go change for the third time that day. 

Kei wasn’t one for love, but what he could give was alright with him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was something that I wrote over a year ago. After a bit of convincing, I finally decided to share it here, and have it be my first posted work.


End file.
